


Hold You Here

by griffxnblake



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Choking, Choking Kink, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Post Season 6, Romance, Safe and Consensual, Season 6 Compliant, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Smut, They're awkward, Unprotected Sex, also clarke and cillian only did oral so yeah fyi, and cute, bellamy blake is hot and immortal, come for the fluff stay for the smut, if you read all these congratulations, just changing stuff bc why not, sara added that last one, season 7 doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffxnblake/pseuds/griffxnblake
Summary: Post s6 au.After Bellamy, Clarke, and Gabriel go on a mission to save Octavia and bring her back to Sanctum, the two finally start to get some rest but unresolved tension finally catches up with them when Gabriel offers to let them stay in his old cabin.(Inspired by the mass clowning the fandom once deemed the "Bellarke Cabin Sex" headcanon)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 220





	Hold You Here

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this a while back as a favor to Sara and to practice on writing smut and here we are. I had left it incomplete once s7 started and shh none of that happened so I came back and finished this when the mood struck me like a week ago. Sara is the only reason this is seeing the light of day along with the fact that anything would be better than the dumpster fire the cw aired, so *throws confetti* have some fluff and smut for my first official oneshot. This probably isn't even that great but I'm still a tiny bit proud of it lol. So enjoy!
> 
> (No but really, Sara also edited this and added a lot of input and really encouraged and pushed me to finish this and she truly deserves a vast amount of credit for this because I probably would have stopped writing altogether ages ago, she really added to the filth so if you hate it, go take it out on her <3 But if you liked it, go show her some love on twitter <3)
> 
> Come laugh or yell at me on twitter @ griffxnblake and Sara @ blkegrffn13

When they arrive back to Sanctum, it’s the middle of the night.

It’s quiet in the village, as it usually seemed to be from the little time Clarke has been there, and the only sound she can hear is the splatter of rain drops surrounding her. It’s nowhere near the storms she remembers from Earth, but enough to put more of a chill in her bones and she can’t wait to find somewhere to warm up and rest.

She knows she can’t yet, not with Octavia in the shape she’s in and thinking of who she should alert first of their arrival. Her chest tightens when her first instinct is to find her mother and she remembers that she won’t find her.

But it’s late, and Madi would most likely be sleeping in Gaia’s quarters, if the two have managed to salvage their friendship. When Clarke left, Gaia had solemnly promised to look after Madi, her affection for the younger girl still clear in her voice. Clarke decides then it’s best to let them rest and wake them in the morning instead.

Gabriel had been the main one to assist Octavia on the journey back, supporting her weight with an arm around her after she refused to be carried. Even injured, the brunette was a warrior, and insisted on walking as much as she could. Bellamy wasn’t particularly happy with the arrangement, but with his leg still healing he was in no position to help her either.

That leaves Clarke and Bellamy trailing after the other two in silence, one that feels comfortable and suffocating all at once if she lets herself dwell on it for too long. 

He had been furious when she decided to join him and Gabriel on their quest to find Octavia, as she knew he would be. He told her it wouldn’t be safe, that they might not come back, but that didn’t deter her at all. He told her that she shouldn’t leave Madi, and all she could reply was that if he was her family, then so was Octavia, that she wasn’t about to abandon them, and that was that.

They barely spoke for three days after that. And the silence they shared now wasn’t too different, filled with tension and simmering anger on his part.

Gabriel suddenly beckons them and she and Bellamy catch up to meet him, Clarke pulling her hood tighter around her head as the rain starts to get heavier.

“I have somewhere we can stay and rest for a few hours. I left it empty before we left and I doubt anyone’s been using it. Not as nice as the palace, but it’s dry and warm. There’s two bedrooms. We can double up.”

“O, are you going to be alright til we can get Jackson to check on you later?” Bellamy asks, his voice rough from exhaustion, she assumes. She knows how much this has taken a toll on him as well.

“I just want to rest and get a few hours of sleep in,” she tells him. “Everything can wait til morning.” She says it so softly Clarke isn’t even completely sure she hears it.

Bellamy seems to accept her decision and nods. “Okay. I’ll stay with you and—“

Octavia immediately puts her hand up to silence him and shakes her head. “No way, you’ve been hovering over me for days. I doubt you’ll let me sleep.”

Clarke sees the hurt and offense cross Bellamy’s features, and sees him open his mouth to argue, but Gabriel puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine. Clarke or I can stay with her.”

Bellamy immediately turns to her, his eyes pleading and searching for a reaction that she quickly nods despite the heaviness in her stomach at the thought of being separated. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

They hear Octavia scoff and push a hand through her hair. “Please. She’s just as bad. Gabriel, we can-”

“No.”

Octavia narrows her eyes at her brother, but Bellamy is firm in his opinion.

Clarke should have known something like this would happen. Despite everything they’ve been through, she knows that Bellamy is always going to be protective of his sister, especially now that he’s gotten her back. Even if Gabriel had saved their lives several times now, she can see the overprotective older brother from the dropship days creeping back in.

“It’s just a few hours. Now, we’re all dead on our feet, and I’m not going to waste any more time arguing with you in the rain”. Octavia’s decision is final, but her voice softens as she grabs her brother’s hand. “It’s fine, Bellamy. You and Clarke can share. Gabriel and I will see you in the morning.”

Clarke can see hurt lingering on Bellamy’s face but they can’t do anything but look on as Gabriel helps Octavia into the small house, leaving the two of them in silence.

The rain continues to fall and despite the knot of nerves settling in her stomach, she gently touches Bellamy’s arm and nods toward the house. “C’mon, we need to go in.”

Despite the last few days of him barely containing his snappy remarks, Bellamy doesn’t argue or throw her a dark look, and follows her inside.

The house is… pretty much what she expects. It’s not too different from the apartment above the tavern: the dark wooden panels and furniture alight with the soft glow of the lantern Gabriel is setting out for them and a scent of old, worn books she recalls from the Ark. As her eyes adjust to the lighting, she can slowly begin to see just that, dozens of books piled or wedged into any space that will hold them.

“Octavia’s already claimed this room,” he points to a door on the east end of the house. “So yours is the one behind you,” he says nodding to another door behind them. “There should be enough blankets but let me know if you need anything.”

With that, he’s gone. Clarke hesitantly looks in Bellamy’s direction, only to see him slump his shoulders in defeat and motion for her to enter the room first.

It’s not a large bedroom by any means. It’s roughly the size of her cell on the Ark from what she remembers, and adorned with the simplest pieces compared to the lavish decorations Josephine had preferred. There’s a window on the opposite wall, the bed tucked into the corner, what she thinks is supposed to be a nightstand beside it, and a simple wooden chair in the opposite corner. But she does also notice another door and before she can even ask, Bellamy is already inspecting it.

When he opens it, there’s a look of surprise on his face. “It’s a bathroom.”

She quickly walks over to see that he’s telling the truth, and her heart jumps at the possibility of taking a shower, even in a stall as cramped as this. She doesn’t even know how Gabriel would fit in such a small space.

“We can take a shower.” 

She doesn’t expect to sound as excited as she does, but Bellamy clearly notices it, and her eyes alight with joy for what feels the first time in ages. He smirks, making fun of her but Clarke can’t say she minds seeing him smile playfully at her. She missed this, the easy banter, the familiarity. _Maybe they will be okay again._

“It’s just a shower. And a tiny one. Besides, don’t you want to just go to sleep?”

That was all she wanted until about two minutes ago, but with how long they were out in the cold and the wind and the rain, nothing sounds nicer than feeling warm water fall over her.

“The rain gave me chills, it’s the best way to warm up.”

He doesn’t argue, just moves away from the door to let her have it, and goes to inspect the chair. “Whatever you want, Clarke.”

_Or maybe not._ She’s not sure what caused the sudden change in his demeanor, but frankly, she’s too tired to try and figure it out. She sighs and closes the bathroom door behind her with a click.

The shower stall feels even smaller once she’s in it. She’s constantly bumping her elbows along the side but the feel of the warm water covering her skin is glorious, and Clarke definitely doesn’t regret her decision. 

It does feel a bit strange and oddly domestic knowing that Bellamy is only on the other side of the door, and that fact causes her skin to flush for reasons that had nothing to do with the hot water. But then she remembers his sour mood and thinks it’s only going to be just as awkward when she goes back out there. Maybe if she’s lucky he’s already fallen asleep.

She doesn’t take too long in the warmth and safety of the shower, and all too soon it’s over and she’s drying her hair with a towel Gabriel must have left on top of the shower stall. Though she didn’t anticipate the issue she’s currently facing: none of her clothes are clean.

If they were even somewhat acceptable she’d just wear them to bed and be done with it. But the only clothing she had was ripped and torn and covered in mud and god knows what else from their journey. She swears at herself for not thinking this through, and for not packing any change of clothes when they left.

She’s going to have to ask Bellamy for help.

Wrapping the towel securely around herself, she creeps over to the door, cracking it open slightly, her eyes landing on his dozing form in the chair.

It surprises her. If he’s so tired, why isn’t he on the bed? Was he waiting for her to come back out first?

“Bellamy,” she whispers once, then again a little firmer before he stirs and looks over to her, his eyes squinting in the low light of the lantern on the nightstand.

“What… what’s wrong?”

“I… um… could you see if maybe Octavia or Gabriel have something I could wear? My other stuff is too messed up to sleep in.”

He studies her for a moment, as if he’s confused, before he realizes what she’s asking and shakes his head. “I’m not going to wake Octavia up, she’ll strangle me. Here, hold on.”

He pushes himself up from the chair and walks over to the corner where he’d thrown his bag when they first arrived. He mumbles a bit as he searches for something, then turns back toward her holding what Clarke assumes are clothes in his hands. Then, cautiously, Bellamy approaches the bathroom door, as if he’s worried he might see something he shouldn’t, and keeps his eyes focused on some point on the wall above her shoulders.

“Gabriel had given me some new clothes, but these are the ones I still had. They’re clean. The shirt should be long enough, and there’s a clean pair of boxers,” he adds before clearing his throat. “I’m sure Octavia has something else that she can lend you in the morning.”

She gives him a small smile, nodding, and gently takes the shirt. “Thank you, it’s perfect. I’ll um, be right out.”

He nods and she closes the door behind her once again, standing there holding Bellamy’s shirt in her hands, admiring how soft it feels before ridding herself of the towel and pulling the shirt over her head and the boxer shorts up to her hips. She doesn’t allow herself to think too much of it. So what if they’re sharing some clothes? After everything they’ve been through, this should be nothing. Nothing at all. 

She towel-dries her hair for another minute or two, frowning in the mirror when she sees how it looks, but the exhaustion is creeping up on her and she can’t find it in herself to care. It’s better than having blood and dirt caked on to it.

She opens the bathroom door again, quickly glancing around to make sure she isn’t catching Bellamy at an odd moment, and steps out to still see him leaning back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted forward, his eyes closed.

She tries to quietly step forward but the floor creaks, and Bellamy is suddenly awake and looking around wildly before stilling when he realizes it’s just her. His expression is unreadable and she hasn’t felt this small and uncertain under his gaze in so long.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

That seems to snap him out of it and he shakes his head. “No. It’s fine. I dozed off. Everything… good?”

He looks as though he’s struggling to look anywhere but her face, and she ducks her head. “Yeah. All good. Thanks again for these,” she tells him while gently pulling on the hem of his shirt.

He grumbles something in response and when he doesn’t move from the chair, she raises a brow. “Aren’t you going to go to bed?”

She moves to pull the blanket back, thinking that maybe if she acts casually about the notion of sharing, he’ll follow along without incident. It really isn’t that big of a deal, she tells herself, ignoring the nagging voice in her head calling her a _liar._

“I’m fine here. The bed’s yours.”

She turns on him now, confusion covering her features. “What?”

“I said it’s yours,” he starts, settling further down into the chair. From the looks of it, it barely seems strong enough to support a person’s weight for a few minutes, let alone a few hours.

“Bellamy, don’t be ridiculous. Get on this bed.”

The words leave her mouth before she has a chance to realize what it would sound like, but she keeps her resolve just the same.

“I know you’re exhausted, and that your back’s been bothering you — don’t tell me it’s not true, I’ve seen you wince when you get up — and after everything that’s happened, I’m not letting you sleep in a damn chair.”

He looks a bit taken aback, with something else she can’t quite determine in his eyes, but he doesn’t budge.

“Whatever. I’ll sleep on the floor, then.”

She can’t help but feel stung by his response, his entire stubborn, childish attitude about such a simple thing.

“If you don’t sleep on this bed then neither will I.”

“Clarke, don’t start—“

“I mean it.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m only doing what you’re doing.”

He leans forward over his knees, rubs his face in his hands and groans. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is it me?” She blurts out, and Bellamy looks over at her in confusion.

“What?”

“It’s me, isn’t it?” She asks softly. “You can’t even tolerate… Never mind. Forget it.”

It seems to dawn on him what she’s talking about and his previous annoyance dissipates. “That’s not...” He swallows. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Whatever, Bellamy. I said forget it.” 

Not wanting to fight anymore, she moves to the end of the bed furthest from him and quickly crawls under the blanket, settling on her side facing away from him.

She feels so stupid, honestly. So much for thinking they were close enough that they could handle this. She can’t believe she thought that maybe they had a chance to get back to how they were, maybe even something better, but he still can’t even trust her or like her enough to—

The bed suddenly dips on the other side, and after a few moments she can tell that he’s on his back, still. So still, she fears that if she breathes or moves, he’ll be gone.

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

His voice is barely above a whisper, gentle. She doesn’t respond. He must realize she’s not going to, so he continues.

“I just thought… you might be more comfortable if I didn’t... It’s not because I don’t _want_ to.”

It’s when he says this that she realizes she’s been holding her breath since he began speaking, and she finally lets out a shaky sigh.

_Not because he doesn’t want to?_ What the hell is that supposed to mean? 

“And look, I… I’m sorry I’ve been shitty to you for the last few days. I wasn’t happy that you decided to come with us, even though I shouldn’t have been surprised you’d want to.” 

He lets out a soft, tired chuckle at that, and she still hasn’t turned over to face him, not sure that she’ll like what he’s about to say.

“I just wanted you to be safe. Here. With Madi. I had just gotten you back and… I didn’t want to lose you again. Not after everything.”

He sounds broken when he says it, his voice filled with grief and it reminds her of when she first woke up to him beside her, pleading for her to breathe. She remembers how frantic he was, his eyes full of tears searching hers, hoping to find _her_ behind them and not someone else. How tightly he embraced her after, as if she might disappear right in front of his eyes all over again.

A loud crack of thunder pierces the heavy silence in the room, causing Clarke to jump. Only then she turns back around to face the man in bed beside her and glances over at his face in the darkness. He turns his head toward her, until he finally meets her eyes, looking hesitant.

“You’re not going to lose me again,” she tells him, softly but firm. “I meant what I said before. You, and Octavia, are my family. I wasn’t about to just let you go again, especially if there was a chance that… that you wouldn’t come back.” _That you wouldn’t come home, to me._

He doesn’t reply, just carefully moves his hand closer to hers before she turns her palm upward and laces their fingers together. They don’t need to say anything more; they know they need each other now more than ever. And it’s enough. It’s enough for now, for tonight, until they have to face tomorrow with its own new challenges.

The last thing she remembers thinking before she falls asleep is that they’ll face it together.

\--------

Morning creeps up on them in what feels like only a few minutes, and the sunlight filtering through the window and onto her face is what wakes Clarke up from her peaceful -- albeit brief -- slumber.

She can feel something around her, a heavy weight thrown across her hip, her own leg hooked around something, and it takes her a few moments to realize that the strong surface her head is resting on is slowly rising and falling beneath her. 

The memory of the night before comes slamming back into her and her body immediately tenses when Bellamy lets out a soft snore and instinctively holds her a little tighter, his one arm wrapped around her shoulders, his other arm resting on the leg hooked over his, his fingers brushing over the back of her thigh.

It’s not an unpleasant position, quite the opposite in fact, and that’s the part that terrifies her. She could stay like this all day if it were possible, now that she knows what it’s like to be curled up together with her best friend. Everything about it calms her: the closeness, the steady beat of his heart reminding her that he’s actually there with her, the feel of his skin against hers. It may just be too much. The universe must really hate her, playing with her feelings like this.

He must be able to sense the stiffness in her body, because only a moment later Bellamy is stirring, or at least she thinks he is, but then seems to settle right back in, except now the hand wrapped around her shoulders shifts, and he gently begins to play with her hair between his fingers. The universe definitely hates her.

“--soft…” Bellamy murmurs, his head tilting to the side so his lips brush against her hairline.

It may have been the sharp intake of breath that finally wakes him, and she waits for the moment he realizes what’s going on and jumps to the other side of the room.

His body shifts beneath her and, for whatever brave stupid reason, she chances a glance up at him, right at the moment his eyes widen and he loosens his hold on her.

“Clarke?” His voice is rough from sleep. “What are we… what’s—”

“I…”

She’s not sure why she feels as though she’s been caught red-handed for the simple fact that she happened to wake up first. She didn’t know what they had done until a few moments before him and yet she feels as though perhaps he’s horrified, but all that comes out of her mouth is, “Why did you stop?”

Her face burns and for a second she thinks he’s going to push her away, but instead he exhales and falls back into his previous position. She immediately falls back against him.

The arm that had been around her shoulders slowly begins to play with her hair, but it feels more tentative than before, more cautious with every movement.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly. 

She nods slightly and lets out a hum of approval, afraid that if she’s any louder it will break the moment or she may wake up from what feels like an exhilarating and yet terrifying dream. “’s okay.”

Bellamy slowly relaxes more and more, and Clarke closes her eyes to focus on this newfound feeling. Bellamy’s heart under her head is beating a little faster, her own breaths a little shallower as they fall back into a comfortable rhythm. She feels his fingers twitch where they rest against her thigh, lightly grazing her skin.

They stay like that, silently, for the next few minutes. Trying to let themselves just do what feels right, despite never approaching this territory before. And while all Clarke originally wanted was to go back to sleep, her pounding heart and racing thoughts won’t allow her now. She clings to him the way she must have in her sleep, and she can feel Bellamy still somewhat tense under her. He must be as nervous as she is.

“I can practically _feel_ you thinking.”

He stiffens under her for a moment, and in an attempt to not think about everything that could potentially go wrong if they start talking about what they’re doing, she concentrates on a stray thread on the front of his shirt, picking at it and rolling it around her fingertips. 

“I have a lot on my mind.”

“Did you get any sleep?” She asks him, and he lets out a soft grunt in response. 

“A little. Did you?”

She nods against him, involuntarily shifting her leg, the one thrown over his, on accident, and it seems to send a small jolt through both of them.

Two things happen then: first, Bellamy presses his fingers a little harder into her thigh, gripping it; and second, the small gasp Clarke emits as a direct result of the first thing.

A beat passes when everything stays still, then Bellamy loosens his hold on her thigh and begins to trace small patterns against her skin with his thumb. His touch is slow, maddening, but also hesitant in a way that makes Clarke think he expects her to swat his hand away any moment. It sends a chill through her and she hates how much she enjoys it and how she wants more.

His motions stop for a moment. “It’s okay,” she repeats softly, giving him permission to start again.

They stay like that for a short while longer, relaxing more as time stretches on, and Clarke tries to soak up every sensation, knowing that this moment will most likely never happen again. She wishes they could stay in this little bubble for the rest of the day, not having to worry about plans and strategies and taking care of their people. She wishes she could just be Clarke and he could just be Bellamy, and they could both be just a girl and a boy together like this without the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Bellamy’s other hand gently starts playing with her hair again, his fingers occasionally brushing along the back of her neck and despite it causing her to shiver, Clarke thinks she could fall back asleep just like this, his touch so soothing.

She knows she shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. She shouldn’t be wishing she could wake up with him like this every morning. She shouldn’t enjoy wearing his clothes to bed. She shouldn’t be wanting his hands to explore more of her, and she sure as hell shouldn’t have her leg so close to his groin where even the slightest movement might allow her to feel him. He doesn’t want that, she tells herself. Not so soon after his breakup and getting his sister back and everything else going on in their messed up lives.

“You cold? You’re shivering.” His voice startles her, making her jump slightly, causing her leg to move. Clarke doesn’t imagine the sharp intake of breath from his lips when she accidentally brushes against his crotch.

She swallows. “No.”

Even if it was just for the briefest of moments, she still felt him, and she desperately wills her mind to forget that he felt _hard_ against her. It’s not her, it’s just morning wood. It’s completely normal among men in the mornings, right? 

Bellamy shifts under her again, most likely knowing exactly what she was concerned about, but his movements only cause her leg to slide against his covered dick again, and _holy shit_ , he’s longer than she imagined.

He curses to himself and tries to pull away from her, but her hand still holds onto his shirt. He finally tilts his head up to meet her eyes, wide and mortified. “Clarke--”

It suddenly hits her, the implications of what she’s doing, the consequences of her actions, and as much as it pains her, she is the one to let go and fully pull away from him. _He doesn’t want this_ , and that realization makes her feel sick to her stomach. “I--I’m sorry. Forget… that. I didn’t mean--” 

If the room’s floor could open up and swallow her that would be great, Clarke thinks. She scoots back and sits up quickly, facing the end of the bed. God, she can’t even bear to look at him, her guilt already gnawing at her. She crossed a line, and now she’s ruined whatever was left of their relationship.

Bellamy must be able to tell she’s shutting herself down, and mimics her in sitting up, but he’s still facing her. “Clarke, hey… You have nothing to apologize for. Clarke, look at me.”

It takes her a few moments, but once she finally works up the courage to do so, she can see how his expression is flooded with concern, and something else she can’t quite pinpoint.

“I’m the one that’s sorry, alright? That’s why I was being weird last night. I knew I would probably…” He runs his hand through his messy curls and then wipes his hand over his face. “Do something stupid like that and cross a line.”

_What?_

“Bellamy, you didn’t cross any lines; I did. God, I was practically wrapped around you and…” She covers her face with her hands in embarrassment. “I can only imagine what you must think.”

“That it was nice,” he tells her, more insisting, his gaze more heated than before. “What? You thought you were taking advantage or something?”

Guilt burns through her even hotter now and she can’t help the tears that threaten to sting the corners of her eyes. “It wasn’t right of me!”

Bellamy lets out a tired sigh and scoots closer to her, covering her hand with his own. She forces her hand to stay still. “Clarke. Listen to me. You did nothing wrong.” The way his eyes are boring into hers, soft and pleading breaks something inside her. It reminds her of when he asked her not to leave after Mt. Weather. She had never wanted to do anything to make him look at her like that ever again.

“You and me are good. And, it’s still early. Can we go back to how we were, for just a little while? Please?”

Clarke knows she should refuse, but this time she doesn’t have enough strength to do so, so she nods. He looks relieved and gives her a small smile, murmuring something under his breath as he pulls the covers back for both of them, waiting for her to slide in before he does. They end up facing one another again, Bellamy reaching for her hand under the blanket.

It doesn’t take long for them to drift off back to sleep.

———

The faint sounds of a barking dog is what eventually pulls Clarke from her sleep.

The suns are definitely high up in the sky now, the bright warm light flooding into the room through the window, a soft breeze gently swaying the curtain every so often.

Clarke burrows her face back into the pillow, wanting to keep her eyes closed just for a few more minutes, before memories begin to filter back into her hazy thoughts.

Gabriel and Octavia. The rain. Sanctum. Bellamy.

_Bellamy._

Her eyes snap open as she suddenly remembers what happened with him and heat immediately floods over every inch of her skin.

_That wasn’t real._

_There’s no way that was real._

_It was all just a dream._

Yes, a dream. It had to be. There’s absolutely no way she had come onto Bellamy like that. Of course not.

She hates that it makes her feel sick with shame, yet the ache she feels wishing something more had actually happened makes her feel even worse.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly lifts her head and looks over her shoulder. 

He’s gone.

The spot on the bed beside her looks to have been hastily made as much as it could be with her still under the covers. Bellamy’s pack is still in the corner of the room, looking just as it had last night.

It isn’t until her eyes land toward the end of the bed and see a fresh set of what looks like women’s clothing that she feels her chest tighten with affection.

Bellamy had gone and gotten her some clothes from Octavia, after all.

As she finally stretches her aching muscles and climbs out of bed to get dressed, she wonders how late it must be now and makes a mental note to thank Bellamy for letting her sleep in.

From the look and sound of it, Sanctum is already bustling with its usual morning activities and she wonders how many people know that they returned last night.

She wonders if Madi knows, and plans to stop by her and Gaia’s quarters as soon as she leaves the cabin.

Her growling stomach breaks the silence and she thinks she may have to make a stop for breakfast eventually, too.

Once she deems herself presentable, she’s about to head out toward the village when she runs into someone, quite literally, as she’s walking out the door of the cabin.

“Oh- sorry, I… Bellamy?”

Flustered and not exactly meeting Clarke’s eyes, he nods and adjusts what looks to be a plate in his hand.

“Hey. I was just coming to check on you. And bring you something to eat.”

Something about his voice sounds a bit… off. Rougher than usual. 

“Oh. Thanks,” she starts, feeling suddenly shy. “But I'm fine, I was actually just going to see Madi and get some breakfast.”

“Right. I actually ran into her and Gaia on the way into town. Madi’s fine,” he adds, instantly relaxing Clarke. “She was worried but I told her you were still resting and that you were okay. She’s going to spend the morning with Gaia.”

Clarke sighs in relief, grateful that Bellamy was kind enough to inform Madi that they were back and in one piece.

“Thank you,” she tells him. “I’ll go check in with her later then.”

He gives a soft grunt in reply. “No problem. But uh, you should probably eat,” he says, offering her the plate which she takes. “Sanctum has some weird looking fruit, but it’s good. I already tried some.”

They shift into an uncomfortable silence and Clarke hates it. This is her fault, she realizes, no matter what Bellamy said before. She needs to make it right.

“Look, Bellamy, about this morning—“

He shakes his head and puts his hand up to stop her. “Clarke, don’t. You don’t have to apologize. It’s water under the bridge. You don’t even have anything to apologize for. Trust me.”

Clarke’s throat begins to feel tight with guilt.

“But I feel like I do.” She considers how to say her next words carefully. “You just ended things with Echo and I shouldn’t have… done that.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable, and Clarke thinks maybe she’s right after all, that he’s more upset about it than he’s letting on. Maybe he doesn’t forgive her. Maybe she really did cross a line and destroy something between them. She hates the thought with every fiber in her being.

“Clarke, listen to me. I meant what I said this morning. We are fine. It was nice, alright?”

When she meets his eyes, they look honest, pleading even, for her to believe him. 

“If anything, I’m sorry I… reacted the way I did. I’m sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable.”

She can feel the heat rise in her cheeks and she shakes her head. She wishes she could tell him it was just the opposite.

“You didn’t. Trust me.”

He shifts back and forth on his feet before giving her a nod. 

“Okay. Good. So we’re good?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

He lets out a relieved sigh and she can’t help but do the same. She can't remember a more awkward conversation between them, but she’s glad that maybe they can move past this. She can’t imagine what it would be like to lose him over something as stupid and awkward as this.

He nods toward the plate in her hands. “You really should eat something. If you want, I could keep you company?”

She notices the slight hesitation and nervousness in his tone, but she quickly nods and turns to go back into the cabin.

“Yeah, I’d like that, actually. Gabriel has a ton of books, you know. I figured you’d probably want to take a look at them. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Bellamy’s face seems to light up, be it over her accepting his company or the books, or both, she doesn’t know, but it’s the lightest she’s seen him in a while and it brings a wave of joy over her for the first in so long.

“Lead the way, princess.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest as she walks back inside the cabin, Bellamy following after her.

———

After breakfast, Clarke and Bellamy part ways, him going to check on Octavia where Jackson is looking after her in the castle, and Clarke going to meet Madi.

The teenage girl throws herself into Clarke’s arms the moment she sees her, and Clarke promises never to leave her again, that they are all going to be safe and together now.

Gaia looks on fondly and tells Clarke she is glad to see her back. Clarke can see that she made the right choice asking the former flame keeper to watch over her step daughter, and she’s glad to see Madi form a strong bond with someone new. That’s really all she wished for her during those six years, to be able to make more friends and family someday.

Gaia tells Clarke that Madi seems to be improving and getting back to her usual self since the flame had been removed, and Clarke couldn’t be more relieved that she’s finally on the path to getting to be a normal kid again. 

They’ve been staying in the room above the tavern since she, Gabriel and Bellamy left and seem to have gotten comfortable there. Madi invites her to stay with them, but Clarke shakes her head. She can stay in Gabriel’s old cabin for another night or two while she figures things out. She doesn’t want to disturb them.

“But you’re not staying there alone, right?” Madi asks worriedly.

“No, of course not. I’ve got Bellamy and Gabriel. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Madi seems content with that answer. “Good. I’m glad you’ll be with Bellamy. He’s good at keeping you safe.”

Clarke blushes and clears her throat, trying to act nonchalant at what her step daughter just said. “Right. I’ll see you later at dinner, okay? Have a good afternoon with Gaia.”

The rest of her day goes pretty quickly after that. She checks in with Raven and Murphy and Emori, who are glad to hear she’s back and that Octavia was brought back in one piece.

She then goes to visit the younger Blake, who is reluctantly resting on Jackson’s orders in one of the rooms in the castle. Jackson tells her that Octavia seems to be fine other than a few minor superficial injuries, but wants to keep her overnight for observation, just in case. 

“I’m glad you’re okay. Bellamy was going out of his mind worrying about you. As usual,” Clarke tells the brunette. 

Octavia rolls her eyes but the affection for her brother is clear in them. “Story of our lives,” she rasps, her voice still as rough as it was last night. “But thank you. For coming to look for me, even after everything.”

Clarke knows their past is complicated, especially recently with the events in the valley, but maybe this is the start of something better. A new beginning. 

“And thank you for looking after him. I know he can be reckless. But you help keep him focused, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. You mean a lot to him.”

Clarke opens her mouth to reply, but she honestly can’t think of a proper response to that. 

Octavia smirks and waves her away. “Now go. I don’t need you or my brother or Gabriel hovering over me. I just want to sleep.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and smiles. “Whatever you say. We’ll probably be back sometime later today, though.”

“Don’t,” the brunette warns, but there’s no heat in it. “Go make sure Murphy doesn’t get us kicked out of town or something.”

Clarke takes her leave after that, letting Jackson know that she’s leaving. He tells her that there’s several free rooms now in the palace, if she wants to stay closer to town, but she turns it down. Jackson seems to understand and doesn’t push it.

After everything the Lightbournes have taken from her, she doesn’t think she can spend more than a little while in their former home, much less the whole night.  
Too many ghosts, too many nightmares.

She checks in with the rest of their people, who seem to be fitting in better than when she left, something Clarke is grateful for. 

She has dinner with Madi and Gaia, as promised, and gets caught up on everything she missed. Madi seems so much lighter now, the color returning to her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes like they used to have back when they lived in the valley. 

Bellamy joins them about halfway through dinner, sitting opposite her as he tells them he was working on some plans with Raven, Jordan and Gabriel about a potential future compound.

“There’s an area a couple miles from here that looks ideal. It’s not far from the river so we’d have a good water source, too. Gabriel also said the soil is viable so we could start growing our own crops. If we start building soon, we could all have cabins by the start of winter.”

He looks younger like this, all worked up about the possibilities of their future here, and it makes Clarke fonder of him. It reminds her of simpler days back when they were first settling at the dropship.

“That’s a lot of progress on our first day back. All I did was get scolded by your sister to leave her alone,” she teases.

“That’s still a notable achievement. You survived, didn’t you?”

Clarke promises herself that she will do everything in her power to keep Bellamy smiling like this for as long as she can. 

The rest of dinner is uneventful, save for some more lighthearted stories and banter, and it’s great. She wishes they could all have dinner together like this everyday from now on. A sense of peace like she’s never experienced washes over Clarke then, when she realizes that maybe now, finally, they can. 

When everyone is finished, they all part ways. Clarke tells Madi she’ll see her in the morning, and Madi only smiles and then turns to Bellamy and asks him to keep Clarke safe again.

Bellamy blushes, but looks touched by the request, and promises that he will with a tone so serious that Clarke is a bit taken aback. She looks down and wills her heart to slow down.

It’s a mostly quiet walk back to the cabin after that. 

“You didn’t want to stay in the palace to be closer to Octavia?” Clarke asks him as they approach the house. “It’s fine if you do. I don’t mind staying here alone.”

He shakes his head. “No. I actually kinda hate that place,” he murmurs. “I’d rather stay here. And besides, I promised Madi.”

She doesn’t reply, only walks into the cabin when they arrive, Bellamy trailing behind her. She goes to start a fire, throwing some firewood that Gabriel left behind into the fireplace. Luckily the house warms up quickly after that.

Bellamy returns to look through Gabriel’s book collection, his eyes bright as he reads the titles on their spines.

“These are amazing. Gabriel has so many books from the old Earth and even some new ones about Sanctum. I guess that’s one cool thing about being hundreds of years old.”

Clarke laughs and goes to curl up on the small couch near the fire. “Yeah. He must know so much.” A beat. “Josephine did, too,” she adds softly.

Bellamy turns to look at her, his expression soft, almost sad. “If you want to talk about it, you know I’m here, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. Thank you, Bellamy. For everything. I… I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” She exhales shakily but can’t bring herself to regret what she said or be ashamed, because it’s simply the truth.

Bellamy hesitates to reply, and Clarke thinks maybe she’s said too much, so she turns back toward the fire, letting herself fall back into the silence and her own self-doubt before he breaks it.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”

When she turns back toward him, his gaze is set onto his chosen book, so she lets herself have that little flutter of hope that she means to him what he means to her, and that maybe they really will be okay.

————————

Apparently Gabriel told Bellamy that he may be back late to the cabin, so they shouldn’t wait up for him if they just wanted to go to sleep.

Clarke doesn't mind that at all since it had been a long day, but Bellamy looks a bit uncertain.

“What’s wrong?” she asks as she gets up from the couch and stretches her arms above her head, feeling her bones crack and sighing. “You’re worried about something. I can see it on your face.”

Bellamy sighs and closes his book before running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking I’ll take the couch tonight.”

It’s like déjà vu from the night before, except this time she understands why he’s choosing the couch over the bed. And it stings, even though she knows it’s her own doing. “Oh. Yeah. That’s fine, I understand. Goodnight, then.”

She makes her way over to the bedroom where they’d slept the night before, not meeting Bellamy’s eye as she passes him so that he wouldn’t see hers begin to shine. 

It’s ridiculous, she thinks. They talked about it. They agreed they were fine, that they would move past their awkward encounter this morning. Then why does it still hurt? Did she really expect him to want to sleep in the same bed with her again so soon after what happened? Clarke almost groans out loud. _Yes, she did._ If she closes the door with more force than necessary, she can’t be faulted. _It’s fine._ It will be fine. She needs to get it together.

She changes back into the clothes Bellamy lent her the night before, trying not to think about it too much. As soon as she pulls the shirt over her head, there’s a light knock on the door that startles her. 

When she cracks it open she sees Bellamy standing there, looking uncertain.

“Is everything okay?”

Bellamy nods quickly, his gaze falling over her as he takes in the fact that she’s wearing his clothes again. He clears his throat.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you were okay before we went to sleep.”

She feels guilty now for running out on him a few minutes ago. If she wants them to truly be okay again, she can’t let her stupid hurt feelings get the better of her.

“I’m okay,” she assures him. “Are you?”

“Yeah. I guess I’m just still worried. Dumb, right?”

She shakes her head, trying for a small smile. “No. Not at all. We never really knew how to relax, I guess.”

“I guess not.”

They fall into that awkward silence again and Clarke notes how for a fraction of a second, Bellamy glances at the bed behind her. She gathers her courage and raises a brow.

“You know you could always take the bed, right? I fit better on the couch anyway.”

He blinks at her, seemingly surprised at her suggestion, and Clarke thinks she can see some color tinge his cheeks.

“No way. The bed is yours. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

“I shouldn’t let you sleep on the couch, either. It’s tiny, and your back is still bothering you. We could, um, share again. If you want.” Clarke knows she’s rambling. “I’ll put a pillow in between us if it will make it easier,” she adds quickly. It’s probably a bad idea, but she can’t stand the thought of making Bellamy sleep on that couch when the bed is perfectly fine.

He furrows his brow, contemplating the option.

“You’re sure?”

Clarke nods and opens the door further to let him inside. “Yeah. I’ll just… hang on.”

She goes to the small cupboard and pulls out a couple of extra pillows, then puts them on the bed.

“See? It’ll be fine.” If her voice is higher and chirpier than usual, Clarke ignores that.

Bellamy seemingly doesn’t notice her increasing anxiety, and goes into the bathroom to get changed. Clarke sets up the pillows as a barrier in the middle of the bed, crawls onto her side and gets under the covers, trying to slow her heartbeat. A dozen thoughts are running through her head.

What if she does it again? What if she makes him so uncomfortable that he has to go sleep on the couch after all or worse, find a new place to stay because he can’t stand to look at her?

She takes several deep breaths and closes her eyes. She needs to calm down. It won’t happen again. It won’t. She won’t reach for him and he won’t reach for her. There are the pillows. It will be fine.

She glances over at Bellamy when he returns and silently gets under the blankets on his side of the bed. 

“Are you warm enough?” he asks after he’s settled down on his back.

She nods as she curls onto her side, bringing the blanket up to her chin. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“I like this better than the couch,” he says after a minute or two.

Clarke can’t help but smirk. “See? I was right. Your back will thank me in the morning.”

“Go to sleep, Griffin.”

His tone is teasing, but she lets out a huff, pretending to be offended. “You’re welcome.”

Clarke finds it surprisingly easy to sleep after that.

——

She thinks it’s the chirping of a bird that wakes her up, but her mind is so fuzzy that she’s not entirely sure.

It’s still mostly dark in the room, maybe just before the suns will start to rise on Sanctum. Clarke frowns when she tries to readjust herself to get more comfortable and finds some resistance.

Her eyes widen when she realizes -- again -- there’s a weight over her side and something firmer than pillows and blankets behind her.

_Oh no._

She lets out a breathless gasp of surprise when Bellamy suddenly moves, wrapping his arm tighter around her middle from behind her and burrows his head into her neck, his lips brushing against the sleep-warm skin.

The new sensation, knowing that it’s Bellamy’s lips on her, sends a shock through her body and she needs to bite her lip from making any sound.

Either she fails at that, or he just stirs on his own, because what she hears next is a soft groan and a rasped “Clarke?”.

She lets out a high pitched hum, but doesn’t move away from him or out of the grip of his arm. Clarke takes a few deep breaths and then- 

“Bell, please,” she half breathes out half moans, unable to stop herself. She stills as soon as the words register in her mind. _Oh god._ She’s fucked now, she knows it. He’s going to let go of her, demand an explanation, storm out of the room and everything they’ve been through together will be over just like that.

His body goes rigid behind her, around her, but Bellamy doesn’t pull away just yet. After a few beats, his arm relaxes and Clarke feels the brush of his lips against the junction between her neck and shoulder, causing her to let out another surprised gasp.

“This okay?” she hears him ask softly, and despite being suspended in disbelief, Clarke finds herself nodding.

“Yes. Please.”

She knows she must sound breathless since she feels like she’s still holding her breath, but then he heeds her remark and soon she has to bite her lip to stop herself from whimpering when his lips move from her shoulder and make their way along her neck, up and down, so slowly Clarke thinks she may lose her mind.

When his ministrations cause her to squirm back against him, Bellamy’s arm cages her in closer to his body, and his mouth starts to press a little harder against her skin. “This good, Clarke?” His voice is getting rougher. 

She nods frantically, not believing this is actually happening, that he is actually going along with this. “Yes, good-- god, don’t stop,” she tells him, embarrassed by how it comes out sounding like a whine.

She can feel him smirk against the back of her neck before pressing a small bite just under her jaw and soothing the reddened skin with his tongue. Clarke cries out and covers his hand that’s pressed onto her stomach with her own, feeling the need to hold onto something while anticipation and want start to shoot through her.

She figures maybe two can play at this game, and experiments by pressing herself back against him, her ass meeting his groin where she can very clearly feel his erection pressed between them. She squirms back against him again, causing him to groan into her neck, and move his hand a little further down, but not quite where she wants him. “Fuck, Clarke…”

His voice sounds like nothing she’s ever heard from him, rough and ragged and yet still holding back somehow. Hearing _Bellamy_ say her name like that causes a sudden rush of wetness between her legs. Clarke is never going to be able to forget this feeling, how he makes her feel like this, as though her heart is about to burst out of her chest and her entire body is going to erupt into flames at any touch of his, at any sound he makes. She’s barely had a taste, and she’s already losing her mind.

“Bellamy, please… I need--” She’s cut off when he starts to grind against her harder, his other hand gripping her waist to hold her in place.

“What do you need, princess? C’mon, tell me,” he pants into her ear along with a sharper thrust of his hips.

“More, more,” she cries out. Clarke can’t bring herself to be ashamed of how desperate she sounds. She tries to rub herself back against him more, the flames of arousal threatening to consume her completely, before she lets out another whimper of pleasure when one of his hands moves up to cup her breast over her (his) shirt.

“Shh… I got you. Still feeling good? You like my hands on you?”

Something about his words automatically takes her back to the days at the dropship. She can picture his younger self’s confidence and playful smirk when he talked to the other girls that would frequent his tent, the twinge of jealousy masked as anger that would come over her. Clarke would never admit it to anyone how she wished she could know what it was like to be with him, just once, just to know exactly _why_ those girls would wear a satisfied smirk all throughout the next day.

Bellamy pinching her hardened nipple over the fabric brings Clarke back to the present, making her moan. “Yes, yes, please more.”

She can hear the vibration of his chuckles against her shoulder and suddenly he’s maneuvering them so he’s over her and she’s looking up to see his expression. His eyes are filled with a mixture of amusement and something darker, almost feral. Yet the way he looks at her as if she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen doesn’t escape Clarke. It makes her heart soar.

“More of what, princess?”, Bellamy smirks. 

Clarke lightly swats at his shoulder and is about to give him a snarky reply but Bellamy catches her wrist and gently pins it to the pillow beside her head. The playfulness disappears from his face.

“Can I try something?” 

For a split second she’s worried maybe he changed his mind, but she nods anyway. She trusts him. “Yeah. Of course.”

It looks as though he takes a moment to collect himself, before slowly leaning down and brushing his lips against hers.

Clarke’s breath catches for a moment, before melting under him. She parts her lips and opens up to him, arching her back as he gets the hint and becomes firmer in his actions.

Her hands immediately comb through his hair, savoring the feeling of the soft curls between her fingers. How long has she been wanting to do this? It’s even better than she imagined. 

The kiss becomes deeper, turns into something more primal. They should probably slow down a bit, but Clarke shoves that last bit of rationale into the furthest corner of her brain as Bellamy licks into her mouth. He tastes different than she expected, yet still somehow like something that’s just pure _Bellamy_ and she never wants to stop.

When they finally pull away slightly to catch their breaths, his eyes are darker than Clarke’s ever seen them, filled with pure want and she figures she must look exactly the same. 

Chests heaving, Clarke gently pushes a few stray curls from his forehead and Bellamy leans into her touch, briefly closing his eyes. Oddly enough, this feels more intimate than the last few minutes, and Clarke feels her heart swelling within her ribcage.

“Hey,” she says softly, respecting the quiet, intimate place they created for themselves. 

“Hey.” His eyes grow softer despite his voice sounding completely wrecked.

“This okay?”

She figures this is how it should be, how they are. Constantly checking in with each other so they can stay in sync despite the completely new territory they’re now treading. 

He moves his head slightly to kiss her palm where she still holds it against his cheek. “Yeah. More than okay.”

She smiles and leans up to capture his lips again. Softer than before, and an invitation. _I want this. With you. Just you._ She hopes it says.

“You’re sure?” he asks, his gaze boring into hers now, searching for any doubts or uncertainty.

“More than anything.” It comes out so easily, so naturally, almost scarily so. But she means it, she means it with every fiber of her being as she looks up into the eyes of the man, her best friend, who she trusts more than anyone.

He gives a resolute nod and leans down to kiss her again, each time feeling more natural and perfect than the last, and she moves her hands towards his chest, running them down and up under his shirt. He sighs into her mouth as she runs her hands over the hard planes of his chest, the dip of his waist, the shapes of his back, smirking against her when she tries to push the offending garment up over his head with no luck.

“Hold on, hold on,” he murmurs as he pulls away momentarily to pull the shirt off and dump it somewhere off the side of the bed, giving Clarke a much better view.

“Better?”, he raises his brow and grins smugly.

Clarke has rarely gotten to see him shirtless like this, at least not much at all since the dropship days, and she can’t help the flush taking over her cheeks. 

He’s perfect. She’s not sure if there’s any other way to describe him. He’s different than she remembers him, broader. Her eyes rake over his brown skin, dotted with freckles and old scars -- some she knows some she doesn’t, and she wants to know the history of all of them and commit each and every one of them to memory.

She goes for a non committal hum, hoping he doesn’t see how much she’s actually affected by his naked chest, and reaches behind her back to unlatch the hooks of her bra. When her clumsy fingers finally manage to shrug it off her shoulders, she chances a look toward Bellamy, who looks to be as still as a statue.

“Bellamy?”

He shakes his head but fails to pull his gaze away from her bare chest and Clarke can’t help but chuckle in amusement. “See something you like? Or I could put it back on—“

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns, though there’s no real heat behind it before he surges forward and kisses her again, his hands cradling her jaw before he begins to pepper his way down to her neck and collarbone.

“In fact, don’t even wear anything ever again,” he says as he gently cups one breast in his hand, making Clarke whimper at the sensation when he squeezes a bit and flicks his thumb over her nipple.

“I— ah… I think we can arrange that,” she rasps out. She hates how much his touch affects her. But he soon assures her she’s not the only one who feels that way.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He kisses his way toward the tops of her breasts, taking turns kneading them as he does. “After what happened last night… hell, you’ve always driven me crazy. So fucking gorgeous…”

Clarke’s breath catches on a word. “Always?” 

Did he think of her this way as much as she thought of him? 

He grunts in reply as he works down her body, warm lips leaving a trail of electricity wherever they touch, causing her to squirm in pleasure. “Since the dropship,” he confirms as he reaches the top of her underwear.

Clarke lets out a small laugh of surprise. _Since the dropship._ And still, after all this time… Her heart soars in her chest. She feels frustrated then, knowing they could have done this so much sooner, but she knows it’s not really true. They were always too busy fighting wars and keeping their people alive to really do something for themselves. But she pushes those thoughts away now. They’re here and it’s where they were always meant to be.

Bellamy sits back on his thighs, looking over her with fire burning in his eyes. He starts mapping her body, slowly, trailing his calloused fingers along her ribcage, her waist, her soft hips. And then up again, the underside of her breasts and in between them, until he reaches her neck. His large hand hover over her skin for a moment, making it erupt in goosebumps, before gently placing it down. 

Clarke’s eyes are wide, her breath shallow. She searches Bellamy’s eyes but they seem far away, as though he’s seeing something that is not here, something in the past. His brows furrow, and there’s a layer of pain in his gaze that she can’t decipher. 

“Clarke,” Bellamy rasps out, voice barely above a whisper. He’s not calling her here and now, but he’s calling _her,_ all of her. The Clarke he knew at the dropship. The one who went to slay a mountain with him. The one who betrayed him, and the one who saved him. The one _he_ saved after 2199 days, and the one his red toxin induced self tried to strangle.

It’s when Bellamy’s thumb traces the scars on her neck from the shock collar and the almost completely faded purple bruises from his hands, that Clarke realizes what he’s doing, where his mind is.  
Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. “It’s okay, Bell.”

Her whisper pulls Bellamy out of the painful memories. He blinks down at her, his eyes glistening. She smiles, her eyes soft and understanding. _I’m okay,_ she hopes they say. _You can touch me._

Bellamy swallows and breathes deeply, before gently squeezing her neck. The gentle pressure is supposed to be one of reassurance and nothing more, Clarke knows this. Yet her hips buck up and a moan escapes her lips. 

She sees his eyes darken, pupils blown wide. He surges down and kisses, biting her lips, tongue searching hers. His hand is still applying a light but delicious pressure around her neck, and when his other hand pinches her nipple Clarke cries out.

“God, Bellamy. Please…”

He grins against her mouth, and pulls himself away from her, mouth and hands. Clarke whines shamelessly. She just wants his hands on her. 

He doesn’t let her wait. He readjusts himself lower on the bed until he’s facing her hips. She gasps when his hands firmly grip her thighs and spread them. He leans down to brush his lips against her inner thigh, and Clarke holds her breath.

“Can I?” Bellamy’s breath is hot against her already heated skin.

She lifts herself on her forearms to see him, pupils blown and hair wild from when she ran her fingers through it. She tries to steady her breathing as she replies.

“Please.”

Reassured by her answer, he doesn’t waste any time before pulling her underwear down over her legs until they’re somewhere on the floor forgotten. He spreads her legs again, and gently runs his finger over her slit. Clarke falls back on the bed with a moan.

“God, Clarke… you’re so wet already, and I haven’t even touched you,” he says as he applies a bit more pressure to collect more of her wetness on his fingers.

“Can’t help it,” she breathes, moving her hands to her breasts since he’s busy elsewhere. “It’s you.”

She hears him growl and soon after feels him prod her entrance with one digit. “Yeah?”

She mewls in agreement. “Been thinking about you since the other night,” she lets out a moan when he presses inside her, followed quickly by a second finger. “Fuck!”

Bellamy chuckles and stills his fingers, pressing a kiss to her clit while she adjusts to him inside of her. “Shh, don’t want all of Sanctum to hear you.” A beat, then he curls his fingers. “Or maybe you do?”

Her eyes roll back and she clenches down on him. Clarke hears Bellamy curse, muttering words that she can’t understand in her haze. When he starts to move his fingers again she clutches the sheets beneath her and struggles not to squirm too much. She feels so full already, she doesn’t even know how she’s going to take more of him. When the tips of his fingers brush that spongy spot inside of her, her walls grip him hard and she cries out, hips raising off the bed.

Bellamy smirks against her and attaches his mouth to her clit again, lapping, nipping, sucking. Clarke is trashing on the bed and mewls when he groans. “You taste so good. Even better than I thought,” he growls against her entrance, the vibration of his voice causing another gush of wetness to spill out. “So fucking good, Clarke…”

He’s pumping two fingers in and out of her now, tongue alternating between lapping up her wetness and swirling her clit. Clarke thinks her body is on fire, it almost feels too much. _It was never like this, never this much._ She can already feel the familiar tightness in her core, being pulled tighter and tighter as the seconds pass.

Bellamy pulls away for a moment, slowing down his ministrations, his mouth shiny from her juices. When she tips her head up to get a better look at him, she sees a determined gleam in his eyes and swears she loves him. 

“Too much?”

He has that boyish smirk on his face and she tries to move her hips to get some friction before he holds her down. “You’re evil,” she whines, still trying to catch her breath. “I was so close.”

He grins and leans down to press another kiss to her clit. “Just wanted to give you a chance to breathe.”

If she weren’t so keyed up she may think it was sweet, but she huffs and falls back against the mattress. “Bellamy Blake, if you keep teasing me I swear I’ll—”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her threat before he returns to her, tongue at her entrance, licking into her and drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. His arms are still wrapped around her thighs, holding her open and in place, and at one point she feels his thumb press against her clit. 

_“God,_ Bellamy… Yes, don’t stop!”

It’s absolutely maddening feeling his smirk against her. She starts rutting shamelessly against his mouth, needing just a bit more to get there. Bellamy doesn’t let up, he continues switching between lowering his tongue into her cunt and moving upward to give her clit the sweetest of attention, sucking on it hard and then laving it with the tip of his tongue. 

Clarke’s left hand makes its way to his hair, threading her fingers through his curls and gripping them tighter when he moves his tongue over a particularly sensitive spot. The other stays on her chest, switching between her breasts, circling and pulling at her nipples.

It only takes moments to get where she had been before, feeling as though she’s about to fall over the edge into something amazing. Her back begins to arch as she tries to move even closer to him now, moans spilling out of her mouth like reverent prayers.

“So close, _so close_ … Bellamy, Bellamy, I—“

A few seconds later she finally breaks, and her orgasm washes over her stronger than she can remember ever happening before. She comes gasping his name over and over, body writhing and thighs trembling around Bellamy’s head, while his mouth remains attached to her still, working her through it as she slowly comes down.

Once her breathing goes back to normal, Clarke loosens her grip on his hair and tries to move her legs to signal she’s fine now, only to find that they feel boneless. 

Bellamy finally crawls back over her, a smirk plastered on his face but something close to adoration in his eyes. “That was incredible.”

She contentedly grins at him and leans up to kiss him, moaning in delight when she can taste herself on his lips. “Yeah, you’re not too bad at that,” she teases.

The kiss becomes deeper, turns filthier by the second, and Clarke can’t really help it anymore when she reaches for his boxers and offers to return the favor.

He grabs her wrist and groans against her mouth. “I won’t be able to last long if you do that,” he warns. “Maybe next time. Just need to be inside you now.”

Her heart races at the prospect of _next time_ but also at the desperation laced in his voice. It’s fine. More than fine. She can wait to go down on him, possibly later after this.

She kisses him back harder now, pulling him down with her and he settles in between her legs, kicking his boxers off. She can’t get the best look from this angle, but she can feel when his cock brushes against her leg, long and rock hard. She lets out an impatient moan.

She can see Bellamy’s shoulder move, and gets a glance as he strokes himself a few times before leaning back. He suddenly looks hesitant. “You’re still sure about this?”

She gives him a soft smile and nods, circling her arms around his shoulders. “Definitely. Are you?”

He relaxes and gives her a relieved smile as he reaches for her hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing them on the pillow beside them. “Definitely. Just tell me when.”

“Now would be nice.”

He laughs, making him look younger and more carefree than she’s seen him in years. “Whatever the hell you want.” 

Their grins are so big that their teeth clash when Bellamy kisses her. They laugh, and he finally puts a small sweet kiss on the tip of her nose.

A few seconds later, Clarke feels the head of his cock enter her, and moans at how thick he already feels. He’s going to split her open.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just go slow.” It’s been a long time since she’s had penetrative sex with a man. That night with Cillian was fun, until he revealed his true intentions at least, so Clarke had been glad she’d decided not to have sex with him but just fool around. And she’s even more glad now. She’s glad it’s Bellamy. 

He goes slow, and when he’s half way inside of her he gives her time to adjust. He’s big. Bigger than she anticipated, but god, the stretch feels so good and the last thing she wants him to do is stay still.

“More,” she urges him and he takes her word, slowly pushing inside more, inch by inch. When he’s fully seated inside her, they both let out shaky gasps and moans as they adjust to the sensation.

“So good, Clarke. So tight…” he murmurs before brushing his lips against hers. His hand is firm on her hip, and the other gripping hers. They stay like this for several long moments, letting her adjust.

“You’re bigger than I thought,” she breathes as he slowly pulls back before giving a long, deep thrust, making her gasp. Her arms snake around his neck and she holds onto him tight.

“Yeah? Tell me what else you thought, Clarke.”

He slowly starts to work up a pretty steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out slowly before slamming back into her. 

“Bellamy— _fuck!”_

She can see the muscles of his arms, tight as he holds himself over her, his thrusts getting harder as he fucks into her. “You feel so good around me, princess… is this what you thought about? Tell me.”

It’s getting more difficult to form words by the second, but his rough voice urges her to try.

“Yes, _yes_ … thought about this,” she says with a gasp as he hits a particular spot inside her. “Agh— thought about how good you’d feel inside me.”

Pleased by her answer, Bellamy growls into her neck, brushing his teeth along the soft skin there. “Fuck… gonna take good care of you, baby. Promise.”

_Baby._ The word strikes her harder than she’d imagined, making her eyes roll back and her pussy clench down around him. 

“You like that?” He rasps out, never ceasing his unrelenting pace. “Is this what you wanted yesterday, baby?”

She nods as she cries out, tears stinging her eyes with how good he feels slamming into her, hitting all the places that make her see stars.

“Yes, yes— _fuck,_ gonna-- gonna come, so close Bellamy, I need...”

She’s rumbling but Bellamy starts to move faster, his thrusts harder and less controlled now. He can’t be too far behind her. She can feel him panting into her neck and hears his breath catch when she tightens her walls around him, that coil about to snap. She just needs...

Clarke’s hands release their grip on his shoulders, moving down until they reach his one at her waist. She brings his hand back up her body, her hands almost shaking with tension. She’s so overwhelmed she doesn’t stop to think about what she’s about to do, what she’s about to make him do. 

When Bellamy’s hand is at her throat, Clarke folds her own over it, making it curl around her neck. Then, she squeezes.

Everything in that moment ignites. Her eyes roll back in her head, her back arches, hips bucking up as though she’d been electrocuted. Clarke would be ashamed of the sounds escaping her mouth if she could register anything besides the pure unadulterated _pleasure_ she’s feeling. Flames engulf every single cell in her body. _This is bliss._

“Oh my-- fuck. _Fuck,_ Clarke.”

Bellamy’s voice is wrecked, and she moans louder. When she manages to blink her eyes open, she knows they’re glazed over but she can’t seem to care. She watches him, hoping her eyes are telling him what she can’t put into words yet. _You’re doing this to me. It’s your hands on me._

Bellamy adjusts her grip on her, leaning back slightly, and Clarke’s hands go to his forearms. She needs something to hold on to. 

“This what you wanted, baby? My hand around your throat?”

“Y-yes,” Clarke rasps out. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Clarke. You look like a goddess, spread open under me, letting me choke you.” His hot breath on her ear makes her body erupt in goosebumps. 

“Bellamy… gonna…” 

“That’s it, Clarke… Come on. Come on my cock.”

Another squeeze to her throat and a deep thrust is all Clarke needs before her orgasm slams into her, washing over every inch of her skin, transporting her to a blissful state, suspended in pleasure. She thinks the sound she hears is her crying out, she’s not entirely sure, but moments later she feels Bellamy loosen his grip and groan against her neck as he finds his own release.

Warmth fills her inside, adding to her moans. When she starts regaining consciousness, she feels Bellamy’s body draped over hers and all she can do is cling to him as her breath slowly gets back to her.

Several long moments later, Bellamy lifts his head to meet her gaze, and Clarke has never seen him look so completely wrecked and happy at the same time. It instantly becomes her new favorite look. Her face must look the same, she guesses, if what she feels inside is anything to go by.

He leans down to kiss her, this time much slower than before, and she doesn’t mind taking as much time as they please. It feels safe, warm. Like coming home. _Like coming home to him._

When they pull away, she can’t help the sheepish smile that comes from what they just did and what she made him do. He simply grins in response and brings his hand up to gently push a strand of hair away from her face.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, the smile never leaving his face, but with a reverence in his voice that almost makes her tear up. “Are you okay?”, he quietly asks her, a specific question clear in his eyes, while his thumb starts gently caressing her cheek.

“Yes. More than okay. That was… incredible. You are incredible, Bellamy Blake.” 

When he places a soft kiss first on her nose, then on her mouth, Clarke’s heart melts. _She wants this forever._

“And we’re doing that again. If you want,” she adds hastily, suddenly scared that maybe this was only a one-time thing for him, or that he wants to take it slow or--

“If I want?” He raises a brow.

“Well, I mean, maybe you only—”

She’s cut off when he kisses her again, longer and deeper than just a few moments ago. His hands cup her face and when he pulls back this time, he looks more determined.

“Clarke, I want this. All of this. For as long as you’ll want me. I want _you.”_

She searches his dark eyes, only finding honesty and affection there, and she finally feels like her heart can rest.

“Good,” she replies, running her fingers on his chin dimple, his lower lip, his lip scar. She makes sure to lock her gaze with his then. “Because I want you, too.”

A beautiful smile stretches along Bellamy’s lips and he kisses her again, before slowly slipping out of her and moving to lay beside her. Clarke doesn’t care for how empty she feels without him now, because she has him right here with her. _For as long as she’ll want him._

She curls into his side when he gestures for her to get closer. His arm wraps around her shoulders, the other one around her leg, like they were last night, his fingers rubbing patterns on her skin. For a moment it feels like nothing has changed. Her hand reaches his, lacing their fingers together and bringing them on his chest, right over his heart. No, Clarke thinks, a peaceful smile pulling at her lips. Everything’s changed.

They exchange a few words about what they need to do today, before starting to drift off to sleep, despite the suns’ light flooding through the window now.  
Clarke knows they still have a million things to talk about, but they have time. So much time. Hours and days and hopefully even years. They’ll sort it out at their own pace, as they always do. Whenever they’re ready.


End file.
